


A Night To Remember

by orphan_account



Category: Homestuck
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-26
Updated: 2012-02-26
Packaged: 2017-11-05 14:05:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,443
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/407272
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The moment Dave Strider has been waiting his whole life for. His first night club.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Night To Remember

**Author's Note:**

  * For [](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts).



> This is the first homestuck I've ever written. It's shaky and inexperienced. I'm still playing with these characters and I'm deathly afraid of OOC. Constructive criticism would be appreciated on Characterization... if you think I'm consistently misrepresenting someone let me know. :) I may or may not continue this particular fic. I have another chapter worked up, but I don't quite know where it's going. We'll see. If I do continue it, the summary might change a bit.

Your name is Dave Strider and everything that has happened in your life up until now has prepared you for this moment. Your Bro made it his life's purpose to train you for this. You can't count the number of hours spent on any given day that found you two going over and over these techniques until you got them right. This was, perhaps, his greatest legacy unto you. And you can only hope that if he could see you now, he'd be proud.

You're in a night club.

It feels like nothing short of the dirtiest hole you could possibly fall into. The air is thick with fog machine spew and the rank of plastered dancers moshing together. The hard floor is so sticky with wasted beverages and god knows what else that it makes it hard to move, let alone dance. The DJ plays a barely acceptable mix of 'today's hits', obligatory dance music, and a couple random alternative songs from the 90's every now and then. You begrudgingly admit that he does a good job of mixing them together and choosing which songs should follow which, but his ability to never let a down moment occur between songs is more than made up for in his incessant use of the mic to announce "Chelsea's having a birthday!!" and "Where are my undergraaaaaaaads?!" every five seconds. It takes every bone in your body to not form an organized mutiny against his musical tyranny the few too many times he attempts to sing over the music. But the crowd digs it. They shout incoherently albe it approvingly at his broadcasts. No one is sober and bodies are falling all over the place, completely void of any sign of humanity.

Its everything you could have hoped for and more.

It's April 13, 2017; John's 21st birthday. To celebrate the baby of your little fucked up four-some finally reaching manhood, the gang all gathered together, prying yourselves rather anxiously from your different corners of the country. You were all perfectly prepared to settle in together and put aside your prejudices to watch some of John's shitty movies for the night, but after a few rounds of alcohol the night club sounded much more fun.

Rose was gone almost as soon as you stepped inside the club. She disappeared like a ghost into the crowd and frankly you don't want to know where she's headed. Jade seemed excited to 'get her groove on' but made a bee-line for the bar instead. You assume she'll be spending the night drinking hapless dudes into submission. This leaves you with a very excited and very not-sober John.

John's screams something at you that looks like actual words from the way his lips are moving, but the meaning goes completely missed by you. You're pretty sure you could be diagnosed as 'severely deaf' at this point and you've only been standing in the entry way for five seconds. But he grabs your hand and leads you down the two steps to the dance floor and then stops there. The mosh is tight and it'd be hard to navigate and neither of you have ever done this before. You're pretty content with standing on the outside of it for now.

You stand back idly with your hands in your pockets and try not to move for a while. You have to let everyone in this club know that you are too cool for this. Well, that, and your secret mission to get Egderp laid. From behind your shades, your trained gaze scans the crowd slowly, cross examining all possible drunk and easy chicks that aren't already making out with someone or being watched over by their sober friends. You're pulled from your meditation by a push on your chest and you look down.

John's standing in front of you, slumped over a little bit with a big goofy grin on his face. "Daaaaaaaaaaave!" he whines up at you. A combination of getting used to the noise level, lip reading, close proximity, and understanding a few keywords helps you follow what he says next. "Why aren't you dancing? Its my birffday! Dance with me!!" He grabs your hands and shakes them up and down in an effort to make you move.

You jostle around a bit and then laugh in spite of yourself. You make a mental note to get John drunk more often because this shit is hilarious. "Whoa buddy, be cool," you chuckle out, letting your arms fall with your hands still in his.

"No!" he shouts bluntly in your face, releasing one of your hands to throw a pointed finger at your nose. "Being cool is your thing! And it's my birthday! I want to have fun!"

"You are having way too much fun."

"I wanna dance with youuuuuu!"

"Jegus christ, Egbert! Fine!" You roll your eyes and release the loose hold you have on each other to concentrate. Remember what Bro taught you. The prefect sick moves that put off the vibe "Hey I'm cool and aloof and bitches want me". Shoulders up, one arm straight down with a slight curve at the hand, the other arm half way in the air with the pointer finger sticking out at nothing in particular as it moves up and down. Now a subtle head bang and a sway every now and then. Aw yeah.

Egbert clearly didn't get the memo on how bros dance, and you suppress laughter as he jumps up slurringly screams the lyrics to every song. He looks like every other girl in the club. He's not getting any ass with moves like that.

You're about to move over to correct him and teach him what you know (make him Aristotle to your Plato where Bro was your Socrates) when the song subtly changes beat. The club is filled with the roars and screams of approval from everyone with XX chromosomes and John. And two long, pale arms are being hurled over your shoulders. John doesn't say anything. He just looks at you right in the eyes and starts lip-syncing the words.

"What are you doing?" you ask him.

"Dancing!" he shouts back. "Now shut up, this is my song!!"

You drop your cool kid moves and most of your resistance. There are few things more fierce than a drunk Egbert, turns out. Getting chicks to think you are just two heterosexual guys lookin for poon is apparently not one of those things. The relaxing of your muscles is all the confirmation that John needs. He tilts forward until he is leaning most of himself onto you, digging his chin into your collar bone with every opening of his mouth to the words still going on in the background. His light blue eyes stare hauntingly over the rim of his glasses right into your shades. His arms are all the way around you with the elbows resting on your shoulders.

"Oh, dude. You're pointy."

"Shhhh!" he slurs, putting a finger to your mouth for a second. "Only dancing now."

You glance around and to your relief, you weren't the only bro with a drunk friend slung around him. Actually it was more of an epidemic. A disease that chicks had a resistance to. You adjust your hands so that they are in the middle of John's arms; the perfect place to shove him off if you need to. But just as you are about to apply pressure, John starts jumping up and down and dragging you with him. More people are starting to mosey into the dance floor at this point and it's starting to get crowded around you. You throw your arms around John's waist and pull him close, narrowly avoiding an elbow to his jaw. He's oblivious to the events and continues to jump, rubbing your full bodies against each other.

The song subtly changes beat as the next one begins. There is no such thing as playing a slow song in a night club, but there does happen to be quite a bit of dance music out there that starts off soft to give off the illusion while still be acceptable party music. This is one of those songs. John, who is now standing completely upright with his whole body pressed against yours, leans his head down against your shoulder and pushed his face into your neck. Now you can tell a couple things about him that you didn't know before. A) His face and your neck are basically two puzzle pieces that were meant to be together, and B) He's drooling a little bit.

"Dave~" he moans, his teeth brushing your skin. They're surprising soft. "I love you, Dave~"

"Okay, John? People are starting to stare." You lift one of your hands off of his waist just slightly to flip off a chubby girl standing a few feet away from you who suddenly thinks you are the most interesting spectacle in the world. Her eyes are wide and her mouth is gap open and she's frowning a little in concentration, and you can't tell if she's mortified or turned on. Either way she totally thinks you and Egbert are knockin dongs after this. Your signal bring her back to Earth and she whips around to her friend, whispering something to them that you wouldn't be able to hear if your life depended on it. Great. Now they're all staring at you. And a couple of them are hot too.

"Don't care!" John gurgles. "You're my best friend~" He squeaks out that last part and suddenly you are very aware that his hands are no longer around your neck, but your ass.

"Dude!" You shout involuntarily, throwing him off of you just a bit and holding him at arms length. He just giggles.

"Lighten up Dave! I'm just playin!" 

"Yeah, like shit you are."

John pushes out his bottom lip and makes his eyes wide and watery and you have totally seen him do this before. Jade too. You and Rose both agreed long ago that it was a terrible and cruel way for them to treat people because they always got what they wanted when they made that face. "Dave~~!!!"

You roll your eyes even though you know he can't see it. "Whatever."

"Hehe!" John giggles, spinning around so his back is to you. You frown in confusion for a few seconds until you realize what he's doing. He's mimicking all of the slutty girls that are grinding against desperate guys across the dance floor. Something inside you boils with the urge to push him away, to stop this farce. But you put a lid on it. It's John's birthday. Sure, maybe you came here to get him some choice ass. Sure, perhaps you thought that would be the best present a bro could get his best bro. But in the end, it's his ibirthday. Not yours. He's calling the shots. Not you. And if that means he wants to dance with you like the lonely teenage girl at her senior prom who didn't get Prom Queen and now just wants to lose her V-Card so all that money she spent booking a hotel room wouldn't go to waste, then so be it. And hey, it's not that bad. You shut out all the people around you (Really you're just kind of being paranoid anyway. For one thing there are tons of other dudes doing this. And for another thing most people are way too wasted to notice if a snake bit their nuts off let alone what two random dudes are doing in the corner of the dance floor.) and juts let John dance, swaying with him a little bit and letting your hands rest gently on his hips. No homo, you just don't know how else you're supposed to dance like this. It takes a minute, but you manage to convince yourself to calm down. It's probably better that you're doing this anyway. And maybe it's just the alcohol talking, but there's something significantly more special about dancing with someone you actually care about than with any random broad you would manage to pick up. Besides, it feels kind of nice.

You dance a few songs like this. John is jumping and swaying and wooing and singing and not paying attention to anyone else in the club except for you. Then all of the sudden, he whirls around in your arms to face you, throwing his arms over your shoulders again. And you can't help but smirk because he has the goofiest big smile on his face you've ever seen. He leans his forehead against yours, his eyes closed as he sings (complete with shrill and a lack of any form of tune what so ever) along with the lyrics of the song booming through the room. He continues to sing as the DJ cuts off the song just at the best part to scream in the mic "John having his 21st birthdaaaaaaay! Where are you John?!!!" John screams, throws his arm in the air, and then, without any warning what so ever, kisses you.

At first you kind of jerk back. Because someone just threw a solid object at your face and that's what you have to do as far as instincts go. But his lips act like glue and they stick to yours, pulling you back into it when you actually realize whats happening. Your face contorts with surprise, then confusion, and then horror. But John doesn't stop kissing you. His lips are still there. Closed and soft against your own, with a little gap so that your mouths are situated perfectly together. And everything in your body just melts. Your muscles relax even as your heart starts pumping a little bit faster, pushing blood up into your face. Your eyes sag and you just kind of fall into it, opening your mouth a little bit to let him in. Your arms fall back around his waist, and curl around him to pull him tighter. Neither of you jerk back or try to move away and now everyone in the club really is staring at you. The ironic thing? You suddenly don't care. Because there is a feeling swelling and growing inside of you that can only be described as bliss.

Your name is Dave Strider and you were not put on this Earth to play some fucked up computer game that would save several worlds. You weren't even put on this Earth to one day be the best at going to night clubs. You were put on this Earth to be with your best friend, John Egbert.

  



End file.
